The Bloody Rose
by Hannaadi88
Summary: Introduced at first to Arthur as his monthly sacrifice, Alfred was told that he was to be ruined. But what sort of relationship could blossom out of the depths of such a bloody contract?


=.The Bloody Rose.=

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><p>"Next!"<p>

The noble who had been awarded with the previous human- a slim young girl with frightened brown eyes and chocolate dark skin- took the slight thing aside with a hungry look, eyes sparkling from the honor of being given a gift from his master. Unlike the creature sitting in the middle of the room on a large stone throne, the noble's lips weren't stained red, his chin hadn't dribbled crimson blood that matched in color the shallow pools in front of the dais. He wasn't allowed to feed quite yet.

The next human in line, a pale woman in her prime who was crying hysterically, was pushed forward towards the dias, unchained from the rest of the group. Courtiers watched as their lord slowly stood up, a bored expression on his face as he grabbed the woman's shoulders and sunk his teeth brutely into one of the thirty humans' neck, feeding on yet another sacrifice carefully selected by his people. The noble that had presented the lord with the woman watched in disappointment as she fell drained to the floor just as the numerous humans before her, not having been able to raise any special interest in his master. He would have to try harder next time.

The congregation watched attentively as the servants quickly disposed of the body, dragging the still figure across the marble floor into a corner unlit by the torchelight. The humans gaped silently in horror despite the number of times they witnessed the gruesome ritual- if anything, the horror only grew with every screaming pair of lips, with every leftover blood pooling on the ground in an amounted suiting a crime scene. No mercy. No warmth.

"Next!"

Arthur watched from his seat as the next man was uncuffed and pushed towards him. Just like the ones before him, the youth exampled an ideal image of a youth in his early twenties- golden hair framing a well proportioned face, sky blue eyes in a shade the vampire lord never saw in his underground relam. If his attractiveness had been a helpful aid in his life thus far, it would have been his greatest undoing.

The man had been working out when he had been overpowered by the district noble, obvious by his shorts and sleevless top that didn't fit in with the cold and darkness of his surroundings. Easily a much desired poster boy, no doubt.

What piqued Arthur's interest, though, was the boy's expression. In contract with the rest of the group of sacrifices, this one didn't show any fear as he was ushered in front of him, meeting his eyes defiantly. An amused smile appeared on Arthur's face that only provoked the other's glare further. Arthur had to wonder if the human was completely aware of the death sentence hanging over his head ever since he was forced into the room.

Arthur thrived on others' fear. Be it human or vampire, no one stood in his presence without being weary of the dark lord. What was the boy thinking? Who did he think he was? Did he know who he was glaring at?

Deciding to put the oddity to the test, Arthur quickly met the other's eyes with a firm look, approaching him without breaking the enchanting contact. The human was taller than him, but that fact didn't stop Arthur from pulling the man down to his knees by the collar, using a powerful grip that even the other was surprised at.

Keeping the sacrifice's gaze, Arthur stared the boy down, fingers wrapping lithely around the neck. Whispering spread through the small room by the intrigued courtiers, wondering at the strange display. No one had yet to challenge their master in such a blunt manner- what sort of gruesome death was the lord planning the spirited human? Who would strike first?

After an intense moment, seeing that the other wouldn't give into the fear that would have floored anyone else, Arthur narrowed his eyes and unwound his fingers from around the human's throat, a knowing smirk claiming his features.

Oh yes. He wanted this boy. He wanted him in a way that would make anyone but one with blood on his hands could want another- he wanted to hear this human's screams, his rasping last breath begging for mercy and forgiveness. He yearned for the proud and firm body to fall boneless to the ground, feel the distortion of his inners beneath the skin after his strikes.

But most of all, he wanted the taste of the man's blood on his tongue. A human like this was rare, and if his beauty was to speak for the quality of his life essence, Arthur would have his sweet revenge. He wouldn't share a moment of it- he'd murder the boy in complete solitude and devour him evident satisfaction without a noble clamoring for a prize.

Much to everyone's surprise, Arthur turned away from the boy and signaled for one of his servants to step forwards.

"Yes, my lord?" the man in silver livery bowed deeply, keeping his gaze downcast at all times. "How may I serve you?"

Arthur remained silent for a brief moment, looking the human over with a calculating look. "Take him to my room," the order came at last, the master enjoying the alarm that suddenly appeared on the man's face. At last, a reaction! Let the other think as he will. It usually turned out to be more amusing that way.

The servant bowed once more, murmuring obedience as he snapped his fingers, calling the guards and supervising their chaining. Arthur lazily walked back to his throne, settling comfortably with a superior smile as he watched the other struggle against his captors, seething swears and unsavory cursing aimed at the entire room. When the bonds were tight and the guards' hold firm, the boy was dragged away, struggling all the way and glaring at the lord in the stone throne.

A silence enveloped the room once the human's yelling ceased echoing in the distance, stripping the room of comment. The remaining courtiers looked one at another in confusion, sizing their lord up with the same uneasiness the prisoners oozed.

Finally, the noble that had procured the human Arthur had taken interest (though, what sort of interest was unclear) in stepped forward, clearing his throat. All eyes in the room fell on him and he shifted from one foot to the other nervously. "My lord? Shall we continue the ceremony?"

Arthur cast a long a look over the remaining prisoners, taking in their pale complexions and their frightened expressions. He didn't feel the hunger any longer, his thoughts completely occupied with planning the demise of the chained up human in his room. Stretching in his seat, he gracefully stood up and began making his way to the exit, stirring a baffled frenzy in the room behind him.

"Your grace! What shall we do with the rest of your meal?" the noble asked frantically, calling across the room to his master. Submerged in his thoughts, Arthur didn't bother looking over his shoulder as he answered carelessly. "Divide them up between the lot of you- I have no further need for them or you."

The onlookers gaped at the disappearing figure of their leader, leaving them to feast on his own sacrifices.

Something was wrong.

-.-

The room Alfred was imprisoned in was pitch black, the sort that your eyes never get used to despite what felt like hours of standing alone in the dark, not knowing where you'd be seating yourself if you were even able to, with all the buckles and chains restraining his arms to his sides and his legs stiff together. The air around him was cold and damp, dispiriting as much as it was physically unbearable. He should have worn more for jogging.

Grinding his teeth in effort to prove to no one in particular that he was still able to move, Alfred wriggled his fingers, exhaling slowly as he suppressed a shiver. He wouldn't give in- he couldn't give the monster the satisfaction. Who knew? He could be right behind him, waiting for him to-**  
><strong>A pale mockery of light that still managed to blind him poured through the door as a figure stepped inside the room, shutting the source of light after him before Alfred could regain his sight and identify the stranger. Alfred went rigid, all of his senses painfully alert to any movement or sound the intruder would make.

"My my, that must be painful," a voice whispered in his ear suddenly, completely unexpected by Alfred. He jumped back, tripping over his own legs and falling to the ground, a loud oath escaping his lips before he could stop himself. He hadn't been able to anticipate the stranger's movements, but the voice was all too familiar to be categorized as 'strange' any longer.

The vampire lord, the creature in who's name Alfred was roughly forced into a van and drugged, has come to finish what he had started.

Grimacing, Alfred ignored the pulsing where he had hit his head and attempted at sitting up, only to be pushed back to the ground with a strong hand pressing against his chest, pressing the air out of him. A small chuckle was the only reward for his struggle. Obviously, the other didn't suffer the same handicaps he did- he wasn't chained or bound, and the lack of lighting didn't seem to have any effect on him. He was most likely relishing in his panicked expression Alfred was trying desperately to hide.

A weight surprisingly light for someone so strong slithered up his body, straddling his hips as he leaned down, licking the cold sweat off Alfred's jaw. "You're afraid," the suave voice purred, breathing against Alfred's ear. "Fear is written all over you."

Alfred felt his cheeks warm up at the observation, struggling beneath the other fiercely. "You're lying. Who'd be afraid of you? You can't even do your own work, making your guards-"

His words were cut off with a hold on his throat, green eyes so close that he could see them glow in the dark, a toxic vapor boring into his own orbs. "You have every reason to be afraid, you know," the other informed him softly, ignoring Alfred's words and managing to send a shiver up his spine as he released his grip slowly from around his neck, licking a trail to a sensitive spot beneath his ear. The trail changed course and it traced back down Alfred's jaw, leaving a damp telltale on the junction between his neck to shoulder. Alfred shuddered as the vampire spoke against the wet skin.

"I'm going to ruin you."

Without a further warning, Alfred felt a sharp pain in his neck much like stabbing, screaming as his skin was pierced. Worse, though, was the sucking that followed the bite. He felt as if someone was draining him, taking away from him with every drop.

His whole body thrashed, using all his might to pull away from the deathly embrace. But the other held him firmly beneath him and was drinking rapidly, drinking his strength and very life out of him. Deflated, Alfred fell back, staring blankly at the darkness above and all around him. He hadn't the strength to fight back, but the will- as visible as a newly revived fire- flamed in his eyes. No matter how much the vampire would take from him, he'd never take his will.

Just as sudden as it had started, the pressure on his neck lessened and disappeared entirely. Alfred was too weak to react to the panting vampire on top of him, pressed down against his chest as he attempted at catching his breath. With every passing moment of conciseness, Alfred's mind seemed to regain its natural curiosity and ability to think. What had just happened? Why did the other stop?

The body on top of him felt a bit heavier than it was when if first mounted him. The man- if you could call him that- was breathing evenly, lifting his head from Alfred's sternum to meet his gaze. The other's eyes startled him- they had been magnificent minutes before, but after taking in his blood they r_adiated _power and a devious aura that made Alfred feel more light headed than he had been before, despite himself.

"What is your name, boy?" the rich voice demanded, yet a soft undertone pleased some part of Alfred that allowed himself to answer. "Jones. Alfred Jones," he said slowly, a confused expression crossing his face. "...I think."

The vampire smirked, seeming satisfied with this piece of information, disregarding his self doubt. "I see. Well, _Alfred,_**" **he rolled the name deliciously on his tongue for he first time, giving the man beneath him an intense look that made him squirm, "You're one lucky man. Consider yourself pardoned," he licked his lower lip appreciatively, savoring the metallic taste.

Alfred stared up at the other with wide eyes, brows furrowing by the effort of processing the information. Pardoned? Lucky? What was the vampire talking about?

Looking back up into those emerald spheres, Alfred knew that in the midst of his confusion, one thing was for certain. The trickery sparkling in the vampire's orbs was misleading. He would never be able to trust those eyes.

-.-

Exhaling sharply, Arthur dug his fingers into the man's back, pressing him closer, pulling him in. _Deeper. Fuller. More._

The other didn't seem to feel the sharp pain he was intended to experience, grunting absently as he felt the flesh around him open and accept him, pulsing muscles extending their power to keep him in. Obeying, always obeying, he pressed deeper, sheathing himself completely in his master, who it turn chocked on a low moan, hissing at the burning friction he hadn't permitted lubrication to ease.

Once adjusting to the youth's girth, Arthur swallowed thickly and pressed his lips to the other's naked shoulder, meaning for the other to begin. He watched understanding register in the boy's clouded eyes (no longer the clear sky blue they had first been) before feeling him move inside him, pulling out just so as to thrust back in, using all the strength Arthur had suspected him to have and enjoyed.

He would have liked to observe Alfred distantly, study his newly acquired pale complexion, stare into his dead eyes. Run his hands over the body he extorted and loved to abuse, fully revel in his accomplishment.

He had ruined Alfred Jones in the worst way possible.

But his own body was insubordinate in his desire, crying out louder than he'd intended when Alfred buried himself deep within him once more, writhing beneath him. Not quite able to deny his hunger any longer, he sank his teeth into Alfred's shoulder, taking in the luscious and warm liquid flowing out the man's veins down his throat. A satisfied shudder coursed through his body, wrapping his arms around Alfred's broad back and holding him in place, feeling the tension in his slave's body.

Distantly, Arthur remembered the day he had first tasted this particular brand of blood. Oh, he'd been right. He was always right. Alfred's blood was just as spectacular as the man that contained it, full-bodied and succulent.

He had meant to end Alfred on the spot, take what he had and leave him for the maids to clean up. But the moment the rich liquid passed his lips, he knew he'd never be satisfied with only one taste. One night. Oh no. He'd let Alfred live- replenish himself with the substance that was to be his addiction. Let him suffer for his benefit.

Of course, once he discovered the body, the skin beneath the fabric, his hunger had branched out and interconnected with his bloodlust. Now he craved the man just as much as he did his blood.

That was when he realized how much he needed to break Alfred, his will as well as his body. Long nights in the dark, whispering reassurances to a hazed mind after a feeding, pleasure and pain delivered at well. That was what it took to have the man he craved in his arms, pleasing him without having been told to.

For some reason, when Alfred kissed him voluntarily, sometimes even accompanied by a smile, it made things feel even better.

Sated, Arthur pulled away from the other's vein, licking at the puncture marks soothingly as he rocked his body against Alfred, sighing breathlessly. His hand went to dig his fingers in the other's hair, carding through the softness as he felt Alfred release within him, slumping down on top of him with a small cry.

Arthur hummed, running his hand up and down Alfred's back. "Amazing, love," he murmured, pressing his lips to the top of his head. "Brava."

He could feel Alfred warm up from the meaningless compliment, burying his face deeper against his chest. Arthur simply chuckled and continued to rub soothing circles into the other's skin. He was supposed to hate this man. Manipulate and get rid of him. And yet, he couldn't deny the warmth he felt when Alfred nuzzled him like that.

They had a long way to go.

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><p><em>Hanna Chan's Blah Blah Corner;<em>

_*puffs out cheeks* I'm quite proud of this piece, as bizarre as it is XD It was written for the usuk community on LJ's Sweethearts Week challenge. Today's theme was 'Once Upon a Time.'_

_Do you like this? Then please review ;w; Hate this? Review too XD You can find my other two fics for this particular theme here:_

_1. (Medusa's Gift) http: /www. fanfiction. net/s/7820131/1/_

_2. (Forever Mine) http :/www .fanfiction. net/s/7820122/1/_

_-Hanna_


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